


Tailwind

by eeveepkmnfan



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Softy Guzma, Bug Nerd Guzma, Fluff, Guzma's Search for Bugs, M/M, Post-Game(s), Shout out to all the amazing artists on twitter who drew piers and guzma, Sword and Shield Spoilers, What if Guzma went to the Galar region?, y'all made this fic happen!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeveepkmnfan/pseuds/eeveepkmnfan
Summary: When big bad Guzma feels the Alolan winds blowing in a new direction... he decides to follow them.An exploration of the idea of Guzma traveling to Galar, inspired by all the incredible art on Twitter about Piers and Guzma interacting!
Relationships: Guzma/Piers (Pokemon)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

Guzma scowled as he looked at Moon, her eyes that had that familiar old sheen to them. The Champion of Alola was smiling at him, her hand raised in a wave as she jogged over to meet him. No matter how many times they ended up crossing paths, he could never get over how she looked at him - like he was something good. If this had been even a year ago, he would have immediately challenged her to a battle, all bluster and swagger, his homies backing him up. 

But all that training with that washed up geezer had paid off. He merely crossed his arms, glaring as he declared, “I got something to say, so you better listen up!” Of course, Moon gave all indications of standing at attention, her head nodding as she continued smiling. She still pissed him off, that brat, the one who beat him down and beat the whole region down and never quit! But by now, he was used to it; Hala had forced him to confront those feelings he’d long thought he’d understood and then his old Master had taught him how to work through them, not just use them as motivation.

Without all that anger in him, it felt a little empty. There was more room in there now for other feelings - stuff he’d been running from his whole life. But like that shitty cop had said, there ain’t no use pretending it isn’t there. Might as well confront it. 

And if there was one thing Guzma was good at, it was beatin’ things down. These days, he’d gotten real good at battling memories and nightmares, but he’d also been making some kind of progress - and it wasn’t just his Master saying that, but himself. It felt like for the first time in his life, he was actually going somewhere. 

Which brought him to the here and now: staring down at the kid who’d killed him and saved him and maybe even made him fond of her, but no way was he ever admitting _that_. It was hard enough even thinking it! But the truth was, he owed that brat a lot. 

That was the only reason he was even doing this in the first place!

The sea breeze ruffled his hair, the night air cold. It didn’t bother him much, though. “The Alolan winds are blowing… can you feel ‘em?” He gestured with his hand over the ocean before them before she could even think to say something, his voice gaining volume the more enthused he got, “I’ve found somethin’ new, Champ! It’s time for ya boy Guzma to wreck a new region! Ever heard of Galar? That cop told me there are bug types even I haven’t seen yet there!” His savage grin was quickly turned into a smirk when he saw Moon’s head tilt in a silent question.

“Yeah, that’s right! That dark type Kahuna has had his hands full dealing with big bad Guzma! I’ve been keeping him on his toes this past year. But enough of that!” He spread his arms out in a challenging gesture, heart pounding with excitement. He’d never get tired of moments like this.

“One more battle before I go, Champion! Let’s see how tough I’ve gotten since that time at the Battle Tree!” Without a word, but with her grin saying all it had to, Moon unclipped one of her pokeballs from her belt and prepared to throw out one of her team. Guzma mirrored her, no hesitation, and soon it was Golisopod against Sandslash, a familiar and comforting sight. Somehow, it always came down to those two. They were each respective trainers’ aces, after all. 

Golisopod let out an energetic cry, shaking his claws out their old foe and friend, while Sandslash replied in kind.

“Sandstorm, Pomeg!” Moon swept a hand out, looking ready for anything Guzma could throw at her and her team. But just as she was familiar with his battling style, so was he with hers. 

Guzma slunk down low to the ground to crouch, letting him have a clearer view of the action. He smirked, calmly calling out, “Hit ‘em with a Rain Dance.”

Golisopod obeyed, and soon all the sand had disappeared and in its place, rain and rain and rain, empowering the bug and water type for at least eight more turns. As long as Golisopod was on the field, Moon could no longer use Sandstorm, and she knew it, catching his eyes across the field with a glint of her eye. Serious faced and looking like she was holding back from laughing, Guzma couldn't help but let out a laugh himself. 

“Sucker Punch!” he called, right before Moon ordered to Dig, allowing Golisopod to quickly and sharply score a hit on the other pokemon before it burrowed underground, and Guzma grinned.

He recalled his ace and sent out Masquerain, lazily tilting his head, his eyes wicked as they glinted in anticipation for the start of a good battle. “Don’t go underestimating us, now!”

As Sandslash popped up only for it to miss its attack on Masquerain, who hovered high above the ground, Moon clenched her fists in anticipation and smiled.

…

In the end, it was a battle down to the wire, but Guzma finally managed to pull out a win against Champion Moon. He was spread out over the sand of the beach, sweating and worn out after one of the best battles he could have asked for, and he and Moon just existed there in silence together while listening to the sound of the tide pushing and pulling. 

For how happy he was with finally beating the Champ down, Guzma felt a lot more steady than he’d imagined he would. Instead of the old Guzma who woulda’ been swaggering all over the place and bragging, the Guzma of this moment just wanted to… close his eyes and maybe go celebrate with this beach’s Wimpod hive. (Long before Golisopod had even found him, a young Guzma taking the Island Challenge had found nothing more worthwhile than searching out and spending time with the bug pokemon of Alola.)

“Yo, Champ,” he muttered, voice as quiet as it was when he talked to Nanu’s collection of Meowths, “feels like you and me have really settled it all, now. There’s nothing left, huh? Ya boy Guzma never… I didn’t ever say…” He sighed, frustrated and a little guilty. He had plenty of regrets, but somehow, he just couldn’t regret Team Skull or what he’d been part of with them. But… if there was ever a person to say this to (besides the rest of the region he and his homies had been making amends towards), it had to be her. 

It was hard to say shit like this out loud, but it was easier than saying it to himself.

“I’m sorry,” Guzma admitted, and in the silence that followed, his heart was hit by a pang. It hurt, saying it, but for the first time since that meddling Kahuna had told him, he really felt as if he was someone better than his dad.

It was whack, how a lot of people had forgiven him. Had gone out of their way to teach him how to forgive himself, for what he couldn’t do, for what he wanted, for everything that he was. Everyday, it was either that old man Hala, or Nanu, his old team, anyone he passed on his way around the islands… 

He’d never really taken the time to notice before, how welcoming the people living here were. What he’d mistaken for laughing eyes and disdain before had actually turned out to be this weird sort of a mix of amusement and concern, like the whole of Alola had just been waiting for the chance to welcome big bad Guzma of the former Team Skull in for a meal or two.

The first time someone he’d passed on the way to Hala’s place had given him a smile and an offer for some free malasada, he’d thought he’d tripped on a portal to another dimension (at least he could joke about it now). 

The first time police officer Nanu had invited him in with a sigh and a glimmer in tired eyes that could be mistaken for mischief, Guzma had thought he’d lost his mind.

But like his Master kept reminding him, that was Alola. He saw it the most in Kukui, in how the professor still kept trying to reach him - he saw it in Molayne, who had hidden himself away but had come out of hiding only to kick his ass and then hold out a hand to help him up. He saw it in how those Trial Captains and Kahunas all tried to be better than the previous generation. 

In himself, once in a blue moon. It was a struggle, one of the hardest he’d ever taken on, but… even if it wasn’t rewarding in the traditional sense, Guzma almost felt as if just trying was enough for him.

Just being able to say to his dad’s grave that he was an abusive piece of shit and that he was better than him, and being able to _believe_ it - that was worth it, it was worth it a hundred times over.

Moon took a seat next to him in the sand, and he startled out of his thoughts. What was he doing, this wasn’t like him at all! He sat up and laughed to himself, and seeing her curiosity, said, “I’ve been feelin’ kinda restless, you know? I been on Alola my whole life, but now I’m ready for something new. Thanks,” he smirked and dug out a piece of paper from his pocket to hand her, “and while I’m gone, here’s Plume’s number. Keep her busy with a battle or two while I’m away, you hear? Need my number two in top condition, punk, so you better accept yer beatdown from her!” Guzma let out a loud laugh, and then he stood, and soon Moon was standing across from him once more.

It was nostalgic, but he’d had enough of this place. He felt the winds blowing, and they were leading him on to somewhere else.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her. “‘Nyways, that’s all I wanted to say. I’m out!” And just as he was turning and lifting his hand to wave, he felt a shock of weight barrel into his torso at full speed, almost knocking him down if not for the hand he frantically waved to keep his balance. He looked down, only to find who else but the goddamn punk who kept givin’ him all this trouble.

“Yo, Moon! What are you doing, brat! Ya boy ain’t here for this!” He shouted but he still put an arm around her to hug her, glaring down at the top of her head as she giggled.

Punk.

A few seconds later, she stepped back and then quietly said, “I’ll miss you. Come back soon, okay?”

He felt something hit him right in the chest, a quick and nasty Sucker Punch just for him, but he managed to grin and point a thumb towards his chest.

“‘Course you will! You better bet ya boy here’s gonna take Galar by swarm! Me an’ Golisopod and Ariados, and… aw, you ain’t seen him yet, have ya, Moon?” Smiling at the thought of his new team member, Guzma released a pokemon from a ball hanging around his neck.

With a mighty caw, Honchkrow appeared, fanning his wings before looking toward his trainer and rushing over to beg for affection. Moon could only laugh as she took in the sight of ‘big bad Guzma’ fawning over yet another of his pokemon.

(It was a widespread secret in Alola that the former boss of Team Skull was a total Bewear when it came to his pokemon.)

“Honch!” Honchkrow cried, looking content as he stood at Guzma’s side. He set a hand on the bird’s head and grinned.

“Caught this big boy a little while after Nanu made me come an’ visit him… evolved real fast, didn’t he? That’s cuz he’s tough, ain’t it?” Honchkrow puffed up his chest and cawed in pride, making Guzma smirk, but soon the both of them were standing at the edge of the beach, looking out over the water.

His back to her, Guzma settled on Honchkrow’s back and prepared for a long journey. He braced his hands along Honchkrow’s ruff, body bursting with energy. He just couldn’t wait to hunt down all those new bugs!

But before they set off, he looked back one final time and inclined his head at Moon. 

“Next thing you know, I’m gonna be back and aimin’ for that Title of yours. Best be ready, Champ.” And with that, he grinned and Honchkrow shot off into the sky, flying towards new heights. 

Watching him until he disappeared, Moon stood on the beach and smiled as she said to seemingly empty air, “I’m glad.” And as Rotom-Dex popped out of her bag and began exclaiming over the events of the evening and the statistics of her most recent battle, she felt for the piece of paper stowed safely in her jacket and something warm settled over her.

She breathed out a sigh and turned to call a Ride Charizard to take her home, Rotom’s electricity making the airs on her arms stand up as it brushed against her in its haste to dive into her bag.

Moon looked out over the unending skies and wondered what Guzma thought of the view. 

When he got back, ready to contend for the Title of Champion, she’d ask him, and if he won, she’d go and see for herself.


	2. Chapter 2

It took five days and a fuckton of rest stops, but Guzma and Honchkrow somehow managed to land in the city of Motostoke, a great steam powered labyrinth that made his head spin. He was too used to tiny island towns where everybody knew everyone by name; in Alola, there was no need for reputation. Everyone had known Guzma, bug type specialist (a young hopeful taking the Island Challenge for all the wrong reasons), and that had used to infuriate him. Now, they all knew him as just Guzma - and truthfully, maybe that was better. 

It was almost overwhelming, the sheer size of it all, but after wandering down two different sets of stairs and getting nowhere, he finally decided to turn back around and ask someone inside the Pokemon Center. Thankfully, that was something you could recognize no matter where you went.

After healing his team and letting out Honchkrow so he could stretch his wings and relax (and so Guzma could whisper affectionate thanks and praise - because Honchkrow was amazing), he asked the Nurse Joy stationed behind the counter, who was as nice as her cousins back at Alola, if with a strange accent he’d never heard before, but then again, the same was probably true from her perspective, huh? Anyway, she pointed him to a place up top called the Budew Inn, and it sounded perfect. It’d do him and his team some good to check in and have a relaxing first day after all that traveling.

Before he left the Center, he also bought some more pokemon food and potions and shit, because you could never have too much of that, right? He wanted to stock up before he ended up forgetting tomorrow, in any case.

It was while they were walking down the main road that Honchkrow nudged him in the shoulder with a wing, nearly bowling him over in his excitement. Guzma swallowed a snort back and instead craned his head over the mass of feathers that was his pokemon to see Honchkrow pointing out a barber shop…

His head shot up and he glared at his partner. “Aw hell no, dog! No way ya boy’s goin’ in there, you dig?” His tone clearly communicated that it wasn’t a question.

Honchkrow merely used his beak to preen his hair pointedly, as if to say, ‘see?’ Guzma crossed his arms and grumbled, refusing to be budged.

Honchkrow crooned softly, peering at him pleadingly. Guzma scowled, looking away. 

It wasn’t long before he was in that goddamn hair shop with his goddamn bird lookin’ smug as hell, which only made him glare harder as the shop owner merely raised an eyebrow at him and asked what he’d like to do for today.

He turned his head away and muttered something too quiet to hear, which caused Honchkrow to shirek and for Guzma to snap back around and shout, “Awright already!” He slammed a hand down onto the counter, the lady behind it jumping just slightly, as he told her, “Just fix up my hair!” 

She tsked at his tone, which caused him to deflate slightly as he calmed down a little. “...Please,” he said, which caused her to smile confidently and proclaim that that was more like it.

“Here you are sir. Why, you look positively wicked now!” She let out a little chuckle but Guzma could only stare in the mirror at the changes that could be wrought with a simple haircut. She’d outdone herself, that was for sure.

With a short shaven undercut, Guzma didn’t look nearly as unkempt as before. In fact… he looked… almost handsome, from that angle? He tried out a grin, and was rewarded as he looked at the person staring back at him and found him to be sharp. He felt… good? 

Honchkrow cawed, happy and excited, tilting his head this way and that to examine the new haircut from multiple angles, and Guzma could only smile. Suddenly, he felt a little more energized.

“Hey, thanks a lot for this, sis,” he fidgeted with his fingers as he got up, patting down his pockets for his wallet. He eventually found it, and when he looked up, he found the woman who’d cut his hair smiling at him, which caused him to look away. He was awkward as fuck, he knew that, but what else was he sposed to do when someone looked at him like that? No one’d ever taught him that kind of lesson! 

She smiled at him and said, voice kind, “If you want to change the world, you’ve got to start with yourself. I have a feeling that you’ve already started working on that journey. My name is Mia, and I had a lot of fun styling your hair! If you ever want to try something different, please ask for me.” 

Speechless, Guzma could only stare at the floor, Honchkrow herding him toward the door, someone new already new in line waiting for Mia to tend to them. There was a different person heading the front desk when next he stood in front of it, and almost mechanically, he handed over three thousand poke dollars.

Just before he was shuffled out of the place, he turned his head only to find that Mia’d already gone back to styling hair, that same steady confidence on her face like before.

The moment to say something back had already passed, and left feeling like something momentous had just occurred when really, nothing much had happened at the same time, Guzma wrapped a hand within Honchkrow’s feathers and stepped outside, watching his partner pokemon look towards the neighboring clothes store and then back to him, a gentle question that nearly took him off his feet.

“Not today, chief,” he murmured, voice soft, and with a worried croon, Honchkrow didn’t press him any further. 

Fuck, but it was always the smallest things that liked to mess him up.

Feeling strangely emotional and off kilter about the whole situation, Guzma and Honchkrow somehow managed to find the Budew Inn, though truthfully, checking in and finding their room was all a bit of a blur.

Flopping down onto the bed, Guzma sank into the mattress and wished, not for the first time, that he could just be a normal person. Honchkrow settled on the bed right next to him, soft and fluffy feathers touching his skin and creating a warmth in that moment that felt like forever and nothing more complicated than that.

Passing fingers over the rest of his team, Guzma heaved a sigh and mentally promised to let them all out tomorrow, where they’d all go wild. He’d promised himself that he was going to be a better trainer, and now look at him - bad enough that Honchkrow had to see him like this, what would the rest of ‘em think? 

A wing whapped him gently on the head, and he laughed, if only for a moment. “Than’s, ch’f,” his voice was muffled from laying face first on top of blankets, but Honchkrow understood.

Even if Guzma hadn’t said anything at all, he would have understood - now, if only his trainer could understand that he and the rest of their team were there to help shoulder his worries.

The first night in Galar passed by in an uneasy and yet peaceful amount of hours spent sleeping. When next he woke, it would be as if Guzma had forgotten what had occurred before falling asleep entirely - even if Ariados eyed him sharply over her breakfast of bitter berries and other vitamins mixed in. 

But they all knew that their partner preferred not to dwell on things, to live in the present, and so Guzma’s team let it lie, and let their trainer speak to them instead about how he’d looked up where to find a whole bunch of new bugs, this entire place called a Wild Area, and that apparently, a lot of people camped out there together with their pokemon and didn’t that sound fuckin’ amazing?

Guzma’s pokemon let him talk and talk until eventually, he ran out of words to distract his mind with, and it was only then that he leaned against Scizor, who silently supported him as Masqurain tried to settle on top of his head only for him to smirk.

“I keep tellin’ ya, you're not a little Surskit anymore! Yer too heavy for my head and you know it!” Masquerain’s wings buzzed noisily as his feelers brushed Guzma’s ears and even the back of his neck, causing him to nearly fall over against Scizor, who merely stood straighter in response - a real homie, that one - as he tried not to laugh. It was all for naught, however, as Pinsir ever so gently used the tips of her claws to tickle his neck, and Guzma struggled against the team efforts of both Masquerain and her as Scizor merely stood there in silence, observing them all with her eyes, as ever, serious. 

“Y’all are fucking traitors! I can’t believe any a’ this! Ay yo, Golisopod! Golisopod, boss, where are ya!?” Guzma hollered and flailed as he kept laughing, eyes tearing up and trying to crane his head to look for his partner, only to cling tightly to the strong claws that hefted him up and into the air as he looked up in shock as Golisopod chittered at him with affection as he held Guzma to his torso, hugging him and looking to not let go of him anytime soon.

Guzma sighed in exasperation as he looked out over his team, spying Honchkrow perching on top of the ceiling fan, cawing, and he yelled up to the bird, genuinely panicking for a moment, “Chief, you better be down on this floor by the time I get out of these claws! You know we ain’t got the dough for another trashed hotel room…” He shuddered in (Anticipation! Goddamn but spending more time with Kukui really had messed his mind up) recollection of that particular memory - along with the Rain Dance TM, that had just about used up all his cash. 

He was just about fucking broke, which was bad. But hey, it ain’t like he and his team weren’t used to sleeping on the ground, right? They could just win some battles and use the prize money to buy the absolute necessities while in Galar, and with the item Nanu had given him before he’d left…

Guzma grinned as he remembered the look on Nanu’s face as he’d handed over that Amulet Coin, something he’d said one of his Meowths had Picked Up a while ago, but you can have it if - 

(“Just give me your word, you upstart - that you’ll call someone regularly. I don’t much care whether it’s me or that old Hala, or even that girl who used to run with you - but call someone at least once a week so that I can report to the league that you’re still doing your ‘community service’. Got it?” Nanu’s tired eyes had bored into his, letting Guzma know that this was something he absolutely couldn’t wave away, and so he scowled and nodded and received the Amulet Coin.

It passed from hand to hand, and just as Guzma thought they were through, Nanu stopped him by continuing past the older man by laying a hand on his shoulder; he looked back at him, but the cop’s face was unreadable as ever as he spoke inside the silence something that made Guzma feel like the kid that Nanu always said he was.

“Don’t make me regret this.” And with that, Nanu was gone, walking off and out the door to patrol the island, probably, even though it was his day off. His Persian slinked off after him, turning its nose up at Guzma, the haughty thing. 

Fists clenched, Guzma could only think that he’d never understand him.) 

Yeah, he had that Amulet Coin, so he’d probably be alright as long as he had people to battle. He pinned it to Honchkrow’s ruff and rubbed the back of his neck. “You up for a challenge, chief? Make sure that thing doesn’t get hit by anything, ya got that? You and me need to train yer flying anyways, yeah?”

Honchkrow flapped his wings in agreement, a glint in his eye that meant he was no doubt remembering Nanu’s own Honchkrow - and how the sight of her in battle had inspired Guzma to go out in Ula’ula’s cover of darkness to catch a Murkrow of his own. 

Among a murder of crows in the dead of night - that was when they’d met and forged a bond that, while newer than any of his others, was no less strong for it.

After Golisopod let go of him and the rest of the team had settled down around him, Guzma settled his hands on his hips and shot them all a smirk. 

“What do you say while we’re hunting for new homies, we train, yo? Just ‘cause we beat Moon don’t mean we get to take it easy! We’ll get stronger and stronger and strong enough to beat down anyone who stands in our way!”

He and his team let out a cheer to that, and as he recalled everyone except for Ariados, his heart was pounding as if he were in the heat of a great battle.

Might as well call it that, ‘cause ya boy Guzma was ready to show the Galar region that him and his boys were going to wreck anyone who stood in their way!


	3. Chapter 3

When he first went down and took his very first step into the Wild Area, Guzma had to take a moment and just breathe it all in. He was used to being blanketed on all sides by the sea, so seeing this much wide open land was almost a little intimidating.

Fuck, but it was beautiful.

"Your first time seeing it?" Guzma just about jumped outta his skin when he heard the question, feeling embarressed when the guy who'd apparently been right beside him all along (go figure!) simply smiled at him, easy as anything. 

When he didn't say anything more, and just went back to looking out over all the wild pokemon that could be seen wandering around, Guzma decided it'd be safe to respond, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Yo, it's that obvious?" 

The man who reminded him a little of a Ranger tugged on the straps of his backpack (then again, maybe a hiker? What fresh hell was in a bag that big??) and sighed, something that said he was completely at ease here. 

Then, he turned and looked at him, and Guzma found himself once again taken aback by how easily people smiled in the Galar region - it reminded him of Alola, of the place he was born (but he'd never quite been able to call it home). 

"It's the same wide eyed wonder every time… say, were you looking to catch any pokemon? You look like a strong trainer, but I feel obligated to tell anyone new to be careful of the dens some pokemon make out here. If you or your pokemon ever need to take a rest, my campsite's just over that way!" And with an enthusiastic wave, the Ranger (?) pointed down towards where a bright red tent could barely be seen. 

Guzma crossed his arms and smirked. "Mighty kind of you, cuz', but me an' the boys are tougher than anyone you ever seen! We're gonna find every single bug hiding out here!" But before he could dash off in his excitement, a hand was on his shoulder and he found himself stopped, sending a glare over it. 

The man rummaged around in his pack for a moment before letting out a triumphant noise and presenting Guzma with five pokeballs - but not just the regular kind. No, this guy was plain holdin' out _net balls_! 

He stood there dumbly, and the man laughed a little before grabbing his hands to curl over them, and still a little shocked, Guzma pocketed them. 

Brown eyes regarded him warmly, and Guzma barely beat down the part of him that wanted to run away. 

"Here. Maybe these'll help you in your quest to catalogue all of Galar's bug types! Happy hunting, traveler!" 

But Guzma refused to let this play out like last time. This time, he forced his mouth to move, and out came a question, a little hesitant and a little louder than he'd meant.

"What, what's your name, yo?" The Ranger turned back to smile at him and said, "Chris, my name's Chris. What's yours?" 

And so Guzma gave it, still couldn't help feeling like he was half a foot deep into somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. 

It was so surreal, being able to say something like 'nice to meet you' and meaning it. It caught him off guard sometimes, how much he could feel. Because the thing is, after you spend so long building yourself up to make someone better, it all goes to shit when you finally realize that that person isn't really someone you want to be either, and… basically, you've made a real heel of yourself, as Kukui once joked. (That fucking announcer just _ran_ with that joke, too - but it sure made the crowd boo when he acted it up - and that, well, it made him realize a part of just why his old friend loved doing it all.) 

He still wasn't really sure who he was now, either, no matter how many times old Hala told him none of it mattered, because a part of him agreed, but another part… ("You're still Guzma - that will never change.") And yeah, that was true, but still, he couldn't help but wonder if that was okay. It had to be. (He remembered being younger, a child who spent nearly all his time outside, angry with his father and conflicted about his mother, and still he loved them both - and that was why it hurt. Point is, he can remember when he only had his own name to carry himself forward with, issuing it like a challenge to anyone he would meet - big bad Guzma, because even then he was a tall boy.

And to a mind like his, if you're big enough, then _no one_ can knock you down.)

It took almost half his life to realize, but yeah. Turns out, all a' that ain't fucking worth very much. Or at least, it doesn’t matter nearly as much as he thought it would, not after some kid comes barreling in and beating his whole Team up - she really did give it to all of ‘em, even him, didn’t she? It made him want to laugh, now. 

Moon had told him a while back, but apparently when she first met him, he reminded her of Kanto - a place that people liked to call ‘ruthless’ or ‘cold’, when really, she’d told him, everyone there just knew what they wanted and refused to bow to anyone who disagreed. She’d said it was just the culture, to be so blunt.

She’d laughed and reminisced as she told him, _“When I first saw you, I felt like I’d finally found someone I could understand.”_

That first battle of theirs, yeah - his head was in the wrong place, but even then he’d felt what Moon had been unafraid to show in her eyes, in her smile as she won - happy and exhilarated and that sense of connection. But he’d been too wrapped up in everything else to really pay attention to it. Except, she’d _kept coming back_.

Eventually, he had to admit to himself that for the first time in his life, he’d found an equal in a rival. She was more than a match for him and the whole of Team Skull, and it was frustraing and stupid and wrong, but. But still, he’d refused to be called weak (to admit it). 

The day Moon first called him her friend, he’d blown up at her and then avoided her for an entire month - until Molayne had gotten tired of his shit and made him apologize to her. Gotta say, having that kid turn on the waterworks just for you really struck home the point to _never do that again, Guzma, I was so worried I’d done something wrong!_ (“Never, Moon, it’s just - agh! You of all people should know how _fucked up_ I am!”)

He has a lot to be thankful for when it comes to her - he thinks it’s her more than anyone who taught him how to just be Guzma. It was fun, battling her. (It was even better when they team up. They’d become such regulars at the Battle Tree that sometimes, opposing teams blanched upon seeing little Moon and her slouching, big bad friend - and those times were when he really let out long and loud laughs from his stomach, face red and eyes tearing. Those times were his favorite.)

She’d introduced him to her mom, once. He still couldn’t believe it. 

(“Thank you for taking such good care of my daughter, Mr. Guzma.”

“Aw, nah - none of that formal stuff for me, m’am, if ya don’t mind… ain’t really my style, you know?”

“Then, Guzma, is there any way I can thank you? I worry after Moon so much, but whenever she calls to tell me the day she had with you, how fun it was, I always feel relieved. I’m… so glad she has you around.”

“...you’re welcome. But you don’t gotta say thanks - you raised the best damn kid I’ve ever seen.”)

Moon was a weird mix of a little sister and a friend and a rival and someone he looked up to, all at once. She was important. (Right away, he knew who he would be calling at the end of the week. Moon’d never made fun of how long he could get carried away talking ‘bout bugs. She only smiled, and listened.)

Guzma smiled as he waded through the tall grass, having released Ariados ever since parting from Chris. The fine, thin hairs that ran the length of her long legs gleamed under the sun, while her mandibles twitched ever so slightly, something he knew meant she’d picked up a trail. 

He didn’t ask her - he didn’t need to. Ever since he was a child, he’d been following behind his Spinarak, now Ariados, as she spun her threads and hunted her prey - had first caught her when she’d gotten the idea to catch the one who’d been tailing her, and sometimes he asks her to spin a single thread to sit around his wrist, loose but strong - he loved the familiar feeling of being anchored to her, back from when she tried to tried to wrap a little boy up in silk spider thread and hide him away from everything that would ever hurt him. It hadn’t worked, of course, but he would always love her for trying.

(Every time his father would hit him, all he’d have to do is look up and see Spinarak, spinning her webs as the tiny hooks attached to her legs stuck to the ceiling, black eyes gleaming as they never looked away, angry on his behalf, and it had been everything to a little boy who’d never quite gotten into the habit of following orders. 

He’d begged her not to attack his father, afraid of what would happen to her more than anything else. He hadn’t even _caught_ her at that point, and he’d been so afraid they’d take her away from him, that he’d never see her again - and that, that was what always made him hesitate. Made him more cautious in hiding her away. Back then, it’d been him against the world, and he knew he wouldn’t win, so instead he shoved everything he loved somewhere no one would think to look, and pretended that the word love was as foreign to him as Mom’s smiles or seeing the rest of the class off in their own little Bubbles, ones that merged with everyone else’s.)

He looked at Ariados’ sharp purple eyes and smiled, happy simply to be with her and everyone else. If nothing else, as long as he had his boys, everything would be fine. (They’d make it something _good_ , together.)

Right there, in that moment, Guzma placed a hand over her abdomen and rubbed firmly, causing her to tilt her head up and chitter, her voice comfortlovehappinesswarmth, and his heart melted.

He dropped down and hugged her, burying his face in her neck, barely avoiding her horn, as she chastised him, mandibles twitching.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He muttered, but didn’t say anything else. They stayed there for a few moments more, but then he stood back up, eyes softening when she spun a single thread for him to tie.

He wrapped it around his index finger, wiggling it at her as he smirked. “Heard from a psychic that this one is for luck. You think any a’ that bullshit’s true?”

Ariados turned and began skittering off, back to tracking down some sick new homies. Guzma laughed. “Yeah, fair enough.”

Night or day, it didn’t matter - Ariados was a force of nature when it came to stalking prey. The two of them spent the better half of the morning exploring rolling fields and open expanses of deep green grass. They saw random and strong looking pokemon just wandering around outside of the grass, too, but they didn’t pay much mind to ‘em - it was bugs or bust! 

Eventually they found themselves laying down on top of soft and loamy soil, leaves and twigs in his hair as Guzma found himself laughing, staring up and around at all the wild Combee buzzing and gathering honey. He even saw a queen Vespiquen, and she was a sight to behold - he watched her command her hive with grace, consuming flower after flower for the little Combee she was carrying in her nest of honeycomb cells. She glanced at him and Ariados (who’d taken to laying nestled smack up against him) every once in a while, but as they did nothing but lay there, she made no move to issue an attack order. 

They didn’t have Combee or Vespiquen back in Alola, but he’d heard of them - apparently they were popular in Contests in other regions? He could see why… it was relaxing just to be near them as they all buzzed, the sound a soothing background lull that almost made him fall asleep a couple times. 

There was just something about bug pokemon that simultaneously put him at ease and fired him up more than anything else.

He definitely wouldn’t say no if a Combee or two wanted to come along with him, but he decided against catching one - they were all a part of Vespiquen’s hive, after all. Seemed kinda rude to just all up and catch one, right? But he promised himself to come back, just to watch them again.

The both of them were walking leisurely along the worn and faded paths that ran through the entire area, Guzma talking aloud as he informed Ariados of the plans he had for the rest of the day (in order: find more bugs, catch one or two, help Honchkrow with his speed, maybe even check out one of those dens Chris was talkin’ about) when suddenly, Ariados spotted something, her sharp chitter a bright red stop sign to him as he looked to where she was pointing - and yep, that was just a whole ass tent in the middle of the road. A few pokemon were happily gathered around a steaming pot, and in front of it stood a fellow trainer, by the look of things. As they walked closer, she quickly glanced up, wide eyes turning welcoming in a split second.

“G’day! I just got done making a fresh batch of curry, would you and your pokemon like some? I always make too much!” She giggled to herself as a Lotad leaned on her feet contently, sunning itself in the sun’s rays. 

Fuck, but that was adorable. 

It was only as the trainer laughed boisterously that Guzma realized he’d said that out loud, and promptly turned around to make the trek back the way he came, only to grumble as Ariados tugged on the string still attached to his finger. 

He soon found himself a seat on the ground next to all of Breer’s pokemon (“Are you sure you don’t want to sit on a stump, Guzma? My Golurk can find you one, no problem!”), letting out the rest of his team to eat some curry along with everyone else. They all chattered noisily in between digging in, and he had to admit, the curry was pretty great. Tasted like something Acerola would make, all spice but hearty for it.

Breer was just as talkative as Guzma’s pokemon, wasting no time in letting him know all the places she insisted he had to see at least once in the Galar region (“You weren’t planning on going to Stow-on-Side? Not even Ballonlea!?”) along with all the ‘hot gossip’ she knew, which turned out to be half gushing about the new Champion (“She’s so cool! I watch all her matches on TV!) and half talking about the various Gym Leaders of Galar (“Kabu’s my favorite, even though I’m from all the way in Hulbury! He really gives it his all, you know?”).

Guzma quickly found himself overloaded with information by a teenager who talked nearly a mile a minute, and he knew he wouldn’t remember half of it all - he felt like his head was swirling. 

If there was one thing he found himself interested by, though, it had to be the Gym Leaders. Well, not them as people, but more the fact that they were part of the system that flowed through the region. He… had some bad experiences when it came to Trial Captains and Kahunas and Island Challenges, all of that nonsense; he was interested in the concept of Gym Leaders more because of Moon, who’d told him that Kanto’s old champion had apparently come to Alola to vacation, and that had led into a whole new conversation - the point was, it sounded a lot more straightforward than Alola’s way of doing things, that was for sure. If the Island Challenge was about… challenging yourself and finding value in that slow and steady improvement, then it sounded like the Gym Challenge was more… challenging other people and finding value in what that brought out of you? Argh, he was no good at all this thinking stuff! 

But… not for the first time, he had the thought of what it might have meant for him to be born somewhere else, as someone else - would things have turned out better or worse? No use considerin’, really, except for the fact that thinking about it at all told him that maybe he still wasn’t over it all yet. Even though it’d been so long, even if he’d thought he’d moved past all a’ that - he really had thought it was all done with. Would he ever be over it!?

This was part of why he hated having to think things through at all. 

Breer asked him about Alola, about all the Captains and Kahunas, and he didn’t have much to say for most of them. Others, however… (“Old man Hala’s a beast - don’t underestimate him.” - “You wanna know about Kahuna Nanu? Heh heh… Nanu’s a real sly bastard, a real piece a’ work, you know?” - “Illima… he’s a meddler. But he’s a little cool, I guess.”)

They and their pokemon sat around the last burning embers left from the cooking pit and he told her stories that he thought she’d like to know, and her lit up and she smiled at each one and he didn’t realize he was too until Scizor’s deep chuckle interrupted him. He glared at her, but there was no real heat in it, and she knew it, the spoiled bug. She merely leaned against him as Lotad layed complacently on Breer’s lap, a pokemon that refused to be parted from her for anything. 

It was still fucking adorable.

He checked his pokedex, and was startled by just how much time had passed. Shooting to his feet, Guzma frantically recalled his team and opened his mouth to say goodbye and thanks and all that other polite courtesy shit, but Breer put her Lotad on top of her head (okay, he’d seen much weirder) and opened her arms, asking, “Hug for the road?” Her eyes were mischevious and Lotad was falling asleep, and Guzma had the warm and steady weight of Pinsir to fall back on. 

He said, voice a little too quiet, “Yeah,” and opened his arms for Breer to give him a brief but firm hug. He hugged her back (or tried to, because what the fuck were his arms supposed to do?), and then they both stepped back. It was kind of awkward, or maybe that was just him, because Breer gave him a thumbs up and wished him good luck on catching some new bug pokemon.

And then she grinned, and waved as he turned to head on. “And hey, if you ever meet a trainer with a green backpack and a sunhat named Aaron, that’s my little brother! Say hi for me, okay?” 

And then Guzma and Pinsir headed back out into the Wild Area, now washed in shades of orange as the evening sun started setting over the world. It wasn’t long before they ran into some sort of giant stone nest built into the side of a cliff, which, what the fuck. A circle of people appeared to be discussing it quite avidly, as they all pointed and gestured at it and then back to their group. 

Guzma and Pinsir wandered over and before he could even get a word in, all three of them simultaneously turned as one to look at him, all speaking over each other as they each asked him something that got jumbled up.

He stared for a second, then decided he’d take the risk and just ask. Apparently, this was indeed one of the so called ‘dens’ he’d been warned about, and these three had all been planning to take it out, except that they’d been needing a fourth? For some reason? Blah blah blah, yeah - he kind of tuned it all out, whoops.

The only reason he even stuck around to listen to more was the fact that of them said the word ‘bug type’ and suddenly, Guzma was interested. It was as if his ears perked up, the change was so noticeable. Well, well, well. Seemed as if these three upstanding gentlepeople needed some help in battling a ‘Gigantimax Skorupi’. He’d understood none of those words, to be clear, but he was fuckin’ pumped anyway.

“Aight, what you fools got?” He and them bent their heads together, serious and grim faced as they detailed their battle plans. Henry only had a Mareep, as he said he’d had to leave his other pokemon at the daycare on account of getting out of work late. Well, no big. Maurice had a strong lookin’ Swoobat, which was decent. Elisabeth, on the other hand, was the proud partner to a single weird lookin’ Meowth, which she said was steel type. Okay. Okay.

He’d definitely won with worse odds.

“Henry, you an’ Mareep are gonna focus on paralysin’ this little guy, ya got that? Good. Elisabeth, Meowth is gonna be real good at resistin’ physical attacks, so you’ll be some of our main offense! Maurice…” Guzma smirked. Maurice smirked back.

“You know what to do. Meanwhile, me an’ Scizor here,” here, Scizor raised her claws menacingly, causing Guzma to grin, “me and her are gonna make sure the rest of you stay up! Now… are ready to do this!”

“YES!” yelled out the three of them, looking like the fresh new recruits he’d used to train up. It made a man proud.

“Awright,” Guzma cracked his knuckles, “let’s do this.”

He’d been expecting a bug pokemon, but not one quite so… large as the one he got. It was gonna be awful difficult to catch, he could tell - could this be a psuedo Legendary bug?? It was just so goddamn big! But he and his team weren’t no quitters, so the four of them plus their partners let out a loud rallying cry that was echoed by… Skorupi? It let loose a loud bellow of its own, nearly causing Guzma to overbalance. He crouched low to the floor and found his balance as Henry called out to Mareep for a Thunder Wave.

It was the move to set the stage.

It hit, and Skorupi lanced its tail threateningly, crackles of bright yellow-white paralysis gleaming from its deep purple body. Guzma grinned, glad that the Quick Claw was already coming in clutch. 

Next, Swoobat let out an Air Slash, which connected and even though it should have been super effective, it looked as if it did hardly any damage, which was a problem. It seemed as if this battle would be a long one.

Skorupi roared and shot out a plethora of huge, sharp and deadly Toxic Spikes. They scattered everywhere along the battlefield, and Henry quickly warned his more inexperienced pokemon to not touch them. The trainers would have to be careful not to fall on any as well.

Guzma waved an arm lazily, smirking as he called out, “Swagger, Scizor.” As she puffed her chest out and then taunted her opponent, Skorupi fell into a rage and started attacking indiscriminately. With any luck, it would hit itself by accident too.

Finally, Elisabeth had her Meowth hone its claws, preparing for the next turn, and on it went.

Skorupi let out multiple huge powered Z-moves (?) but luckily the man, the myth, the legend - Maurice had come prepared and taught both Rest and Snore to Swoobat (not to mention, it knew Assurance! That was the only reason he’d used Swagger in the first place), along with Meowth being immune to poison (which was more of a boon than expected; luckily Scizor was also part steel), and Mareep who did its very best, much to its trainer’s pride.

And Guzma had done his best to make sure none of the others had gone down. There’d been a lot of Swords Dances and Focus Energies being called out, but somehow, they’d won. Skorupi was on its last leg, and as it shrunk down (what the fuck size was it supposed to be) and the others all turned to him with tired grins, he grinned back.

“Hey, Guzma, you should catch it!”

“Yeah, we could tell you really love bug types!”

“It’s only because of you we even made it this far!”

Henry, Maurice and Elisabeth - their encouragement, their happiness, their triumpth - he took all of it and then threw a single net ball with all of his might, holding his breath alongside the other three as it shook once, then twice…

Click! Guzma had caught Skorupi, and then he was in the middle of a group hug, yells and whistles and screams of victory and congratulations being screamed directly into his ears, but he couldn’t find it in himself to even pretend to complain, because he’d really done it. He’d caught a new team member and the four of them had won and…

“Fuck it!” Guzma yelled alongside the others, the words lost to the chaos of the moment as he held on to them just as tightly and laughed. Scizor crossed her arms and looked on contently, her eyes soft even if she had a few scraps and bruises. Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.

When it was time to part ways, Henry clapped him on the back and said, “Good man!”, looking strangely emotional while Elisabeth laughed at them both for being ‘dorks’ which Maurice snorted at and then fistbumped Guzma, which was something he was a lot more used to.

He’d told them to keep all the rest of what they’d found at the back of the den, but they’d insisted he take the TM. It was X-Scissor, a move he never got tired of seeing in action, so he’d relented, truthfully protesting more for the sake of it than anything else.

On the way back, he had to keep his eyes from closing, the cool night air making him remember back to a time where he and his team would stay up until they passed out - just to say they could, just because he didn’t want to face the morning just yet. Scizor let him lean on her shoulder, taking his weight with no hesitation or problem whatsoever.

She was silent and for a while, he was too, only the quiet sounds of pokemon calls and cries as background noise. But those weren’t even noise at this point really, more of a natural state of the world, something that was so intrinsic and right that they both thought nothing of it.

Guzma traced over the grooves inlaid into the net ball, Skorupi safe inside a ball attached to his belt, and he softly breathed out a sigh. 

“I’m getting pretty good at trying, huh?” And it wouldn’t really make a lot of sense to anyone else, that question, but Scizor, his girl just tightens her grip around him and he tilts his head back to watch the stars and lets her guide him back towards the direction of Motostoke. She was strong and silent and just as awkward as him, Scizor, and he couldn’t put into words just how much she meant to him - what all of them meant to him.

His hand stayed on Skorupi’s pokeball the entire way back, and as the both of them passed where Chris had been earlier in the day, Guzma thought to himself that he couldn’t wait to introduce the rest of his boys to their new partner. They’d all stay up late getting to know Skorupi, and let Skorupi get to know all of them and - 

The city of Motostoke was treated to the very strange sight of a tall, white haired trainer leaning on his pokemon, some sort of intimidating steel type (someone at the Poke Center identified her as a Scizor), his eyes closed and muttering words that only she could hear as she half carried half led him back to the Budew Inn. 

Come the morning, most everyone would be curious about the endearing foregin trainer (“From Alola, you say? My, but what a distance!”) with his Scizor, who looked very strong indeed.

Gossip spread, and shifted, and when next he woke, Guzma (“I heard it from Evan, he works at the Inn! What a peculiar name!”) would have no idea what to make of the many curious eyes following him as he made his way around their city. 

Many young trainers would end up challenging him (and losing), only furthering the spread of it. (“A bug type specialist! How rare!” - “I’m gonna challenge him tomorrow! He beat Christina in five seconds flat!” - “I saw him enter the flower shop down by the water wheels, who are they for, you wonder?”)

Guzma wouldn’t pay much mind to it, but someone else would.


End file.
